


Pas de Trois

by stillwaterseas (phoenixflight)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Book 1 - Captive Prince, Canon Universe, Come Shot, Enemies To Lovers except they're still enemies, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Knotting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/stillwaterseas
Summary: Erasmus goes into heat in the gardens of Arles, and Laurent takes control, using Damen to take care of the situation. He certainly doesn't intend to get his hands dirty himself...
Relationships: Damen/Erasmus/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67
Collections: Captive Prince Secret Santa 2020





	Pas de Trois

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deripmaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deripmaver/gifts).



> Big thanks to Mist for holding my hand through this and repeatedly telling me it was hot and suggesting things to make it hotter. LOVE YOU!

The nighttime garden of the palace in Arles was lit with delicate lanterns, the air drifting with music and the sounds of distant revelry, and thick with the scent of spring blossoms and night-blooming vines. Damen was kneeling, collared and leashed, by a group of courtiers as Laurent made small talk when another smell wafted on the breeze. His head jerked up, breathing in sharply. 

There was a chiming of soft bells and Nicaise came down the garden path, dragging one of the Akielon slaves behind him on a leash. For a moment, Damen thought the smell might be Niciase – he had the fine features of an omega, and might be old enough for his first heat. But as the slave stumbled behind him, limbs clumsy, Damen knew differently. In a palace slave, drilled in grace and elegance for years, that sort of loss of coordination could only mean one thing. Damen’s gut clenched, blood beginning to flow faster in his veins as the scent strengthened. 

Nicaise dropped the slave’s leash beside Damen and went to pester Laurent. No one in the group cast more than a glance at the two slaves kneeling in the grass, but then, betas wouldn’t be able to smell that anything was amiss. Laurent kept glancing over at them, a frown on his brow, but there was no knowing what had displeased the Prince now. Possibly just having two Akielons in his vicinity. 

“What’s your name?” Damen asked softly, in Akielon, and the slave looked up at him with wide, damp eyes. Even in the dim light of the ornamental lanterns, Damen could see how his pupils were dilated. 

“Erasmus,” he murmured. He had a sweet voice, gone raspy with need. 

“Erasmus,” Damen repeated, feeling furiously helpless. “Are you alright?” 

Erasmus trembled. “Perfectly.” 

“Tell me the truth,” Damen said, and watched the command ripple through Erasmus’s body, watched him relax into the sound of authority. His back arched, knees spreading a little. Damen watched his throat as he gulped. 

“Ah- are… are you an alpha?” A blush spread across his already flushed face. There were alpha slaves in Akielos but their function was very different from the omegas prized as pleasure slaves. 

“I am,” Damen said, low. 

“That’s why you smell so good,” Erasmus blurted, and then looked mortified. 

“Yes. And you’re in heat.” 

Erasmus shivered. “I… I think so. I feel… hot. Dizzy. I’m… I’m wet.” Damen didn’t need to be told, the smell was filling his nostrils, making it difficult to think. Erasmus’s eyes were wet too, sheened with tears of embarrassment. 

“I- I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to, I – I…” 

“It’s okay,” Damen shushed him. Every instinct was urging him to comfort and protect. “It’s not your fault. Have you been given your suppressants?” 

Erasmus shook his head. “Not since Ios.”

Damen swore under his breath. “Have any of the others…?”

“One of the girls, last week. The guards, they… they used her, hurt her.” His pretty face was scrunched up, eyelashes clumped with tears. “I’ve… I’ve never…” he gulped. “I was being saved for the Prince.” 

In the training gardens, suppressant drugs were used to prevent heats until the omega slaves were ready to serve the royal family. Damen had many times been with slaves through their first heat, as well as those that came after, and knew the first time was a frightening and overwhelming experience without a trusted alpha to guide them. Damen breathed out through his nostrils, trying to stay calm enough for them both. 

The attention of the courtiers turned to them; some comment that Damen missed and a chime of laughter. “Oh, let us have a display!” one of the ladies said, clapping her hands. “Look at the barbarian. He was reluctant before, but he’s ready now.” 

It was true that the flimsy slave silks Damen wore did nothing to conceal his half-hard cock, thick just from the scent of Erasmus in the air. The courtiers tittered and leered. Damen gritted his teeth. 

Laurent looked displeased. “The slave’s comfort is of no concern.” 

“Oh but what about our comfort?” Lady Vannes said, fluttering her fan. “How delightful it would be to see what the barbarian can really do.” 

“Wha-what are they saying?” Erasmus whispered in Akielon. 

“They’re talking about a performance.” 

“What kind of performance?” 

“In Vere, pets and slaves fuck one another for entertainment,” Damen explained. 

“Would your master let you fuck me?” Erasmus asked, eyes wide. “If he’d be generous enough to share you, I’d… I’d be so good, I…” His breath hitched, squirming on the grass, his impeccable palace training cracked under the pressure of his heat. “I’d do anything. I just… Please don’t let them take me back to the guards. Not like this.” 

“To the guards?” Laurent said sharply, in Akielon. 

Erasmus squeaked and dropped down into a full prostration. 

“He’s afraid of what the guards will do to him?” Laurent asked, still in Akielon, looking at Damen. 

Damen’s lip curled. “He’s found Veretian hospitality to be much as I have found it.” 

Laurent crouched down, not looking at Damen, eyes instead on Erasmus. “Would you like this slave to help you with your heat?” Damen blinked, but of course he ought to have expected the Prince to be observant about sexual vulnerability. To someone who knew the signs, Erasmus’s squirming and blushing would be an obvious tell, even if they couldn’t smell the heat. 

“If it pleases Exalted,” Erasmus said in a tiny voice. Laurent pursed his lips and then nodded sharply. 

“Both of you will come back to my chambers with me.” 

Erasmus let out a breathy sigh and looked up at Laurent adoringly. Damen wrinkled his nose. He had expected to be forced to take Erasmus right there on the ground. Not that he wouldn’t have done it – the alternative was leaving Erasmus to the mercy of the guards, and Damen’s cock was ready for any kind of relief, humiliating or not. But any omega deserved better than a rough fuck on grass-stained knees for their first time. 

There were noises of protest and disappointment from the courtiers when Laurent announced his departure again in Veretian. “Yet another example of my selfishness,” Laurent said calmly as he gestured to his guards. One of them took up Damen’s leash, but Laurent took hold of Erasmus himself, guiding him with one hand on the small of his back. When he stood, Damen could see in the lamplight the trails of glistening slick running down Erasmus’s thighs, beneath the hem of his tunic. His own cock pulsed, leaking also. Erasmus folded into Laurent gratefully and the three of them set off into the palace. 

A couple of paces behind them Damen heard Laurent softly ask Erasmus’s name, just as he had done half an hour before, and wondered what sort of twisted game Laurent was playing with these false niceties. 

Laurent shut the door to his room, trying to ignore everything; Orlant’s face in the corridor outside, the way Erasmus was shivering against him, and most of all the way the scent of aroused alpha filled his nostrils. 

Damianos stood a short distance away, eyeing them both warily. He was showing remarkable restraint, for a barbarian. It was a myth, of course, that an alpha couldn’t control himself around an omega in heat, but many alphas didn’t bother to try. 

There was a wet spot on the fabric over the head of Damianos’ straining cock. Laurent had seen him mildly roused in the baths but nothing like this. His chest was heaving with it, the ornaments on his nipples gleaming. But still, he held himself still, just watching. 

Erasmus was still too, except for the tremors wracking through him – patient and obedient, waiting for Laurent’s orders. Every sickening thing Laurent had ever heard about Akielon palace slaves appeared to be true, right down to their genuine love of submission. 

Laurent could admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that he had not thought this plan through thoroughly. He knew the kind of men his uncle employed as guards, he knew intimately how such men thought of omegas. He also knew that he could not leave Erasmus unsupervised at the mercy of the barbarian, despite the fact that Damianos had not yet made an aggressive move. 

He still had a hand on Erasmus’s back, feeling the slave sweating with the heat. Laurent nudged him forward and Erasmus took two steps, sinking to his knees before Damianos. “Please,” he murmured. “Please.” 

Still Damianos didn’t move, looking over Erasmus’s head at Laurent, brow slightly furrowed as if wondering whether this was another trap. Laurent wished it were. He raised his eyebrows. “Make yourself useful,” he said, in Akielon. “Or do you need me to instruct you?” 

“No. I don’t.” Damianos bent down, and scooped Erasmus up in his arms effortlessly.The muscles in his back and biceps flexed, gleaming with gold-dusted paint. Erasmus whimpered and wrapped his legs around Damianos’s waist, his whole body undulating so forcefully that Damianos grunted and had to adjust his grip to keep from dropping him. After a glance around the room, Damianos carried Erasmus to the bed, with one defiant glance at Laurent. Laurent thought about objecting, but neither of the settees were really large enough for two if one of them was an enormous barbarian, and Erasmus was uncomfortable enough already. 

Damianos was an alpha, a barbarian, and moreover a man, so Laurent was expecting him to throw Erasmus down on the bed and mount him immediately. Instead he lay the slave out on the cushions and ran his hands down his torso, pinching at his nipples and murmuring soothing words in Akielon. When he was speaking so softly it was difficult for Laurent to translate but he understood the tone. It was out of place in Damianos’ mouth. 

Erasmus writhed under the attention, knees spread wantonly, mewling for more. Laurent could see the slick on the insides of his thighs, his small cock ruby-red and bouncing on his navel. He was beyond words, begging instead with his body, arching and wriggling. Damianos held him down inexorably, his broad, dark hands contrasting on Erasmus’ porcelain skin. There were bruises on Erasmus from his captivity, but Damianos’ touch was gentle enough to leave no marks. 

Grabbing a pillow, Damianos helped Erasmus lift his hips and eased it under them, and Laurent felt a diffuse sense of relief. The familiar part was about to begin, although the consideration with the cushion was another curiosity. Laurent knew how uncomfortable it was to be bent in half on your back, stomach cramping with the position. Where had a spoiled prince with everything he wanted in life handed to him on a platter or the tip of a sword learned to care for his lovers’ well-being? 

When Damianos bent and pressed his face between Erasmus’ cheeks, Laurent felt his stomach flip with shock. Erasmus wailed, back bowing, nearly kicking Damianos in the face as his legs spasmed. Damianos merely caught his ankles, one in each hand, and used them to push him further open. His mouth made a wet noise on Erasmus’ hole, and Laurent felt his own body throb viscerally in response. His cock was half-hard. This was – it was filthy, it was obscene. Something pets did, not princes. 

If anything, though, Damianos seemed to be enjoying himself, arching his neck to press his face closer, eyes closed. Despite himself, Laurent shuffled sideways, closer to the edge of the bed to get a better view. Damianos’ chin was gleaming with slick, and his tongue was pressing and swirling at Erasmus’ hole, dipping inside. 

The smell of them both was overwhelming. The heated, cinnamon-and-earth smell of alpha made Laurent’s guts clench and sweat break out on the back of his neck, even though he hadn’t had a heat in years. And the potent, sharp scent of omega’s slick made the whole room stink of sex. Laurent’s cock pressed uncomfortably against the laces of his trousers. 

Erasmus cried out and shoved back against Damianos’ face as his little cock twitched and spurted a thin omega load all over himself. Damianos hummed happily and licked him through it, making Erasmus shudder and whine before pulling back. 

“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he was murmuring. “I’ll give you what you need.” Wiping his mouth with one arm, he hitched Erasmus’ legs up on either side of his hips and slid his cock into him. Erasmus arched his back and came again, pink cock jerking and shooting untouched over his own chest. Damianos growled happily and bent over him, muscular ass clenching and flexing as he thrust into Erasmus with short, forceful strokes. Sweat gleamed on his bare back. Laurent’s mouth was dry. 

It wasn’t going to take long, and then Damianos would knot Erasmus, mate him, fill him up with come, and Erasmus was clearly ripe for it, and that was the last thing anyone needed. Laurent didn’t want to imagine what sorts of abuses and torments would befall a pregnant slave far from home with no one to look after him or his child. But clearly, given the way Erasmus was panting for it and Damianos was giving it to him relentlessly, Laurent was the only one clear-headed enough to realize it. 

With a low groan, Damianos pressed inside Erasmus and went still and Laurent swore out loud, flinging himself onto the bed and grabbing Damianos’ balls, yanking hard. Damianos swore and reared back. There was a wet sound as his knot popped out just in time, not yet fully tied. One of Damianos’ hands shot out to grip Laurent’s shoulder, hard enough to break something if he wanted, but his eyes were blown, too far gone into his orgasm to react. Laurent jolted, baring his teeth and fighting the instinct to lean into an alpha’s grasp. The heavy balls in Laurent’s hand pulsed, and Laurent smelled the unmistakable salty-sweet scent of alpha come, splashing everywhere. 

Erasmus was mewling, shivering, pushing his ass back toward Damianos, and Damianos was straining toward him even though his knot was up now and he wouldn’t be able to get back inside. Still, he’d be able to get enough in to make the kind of problems none of them needed to deal with, so without thinking too hard about it, Laurent closed his fingers around Damianos’ knot and slid the other hand fully inside Erasmus’s stretched, swollen hole. 

Gasping, Erasmus clenched down as the widest part of Laurent’s knuckles slid inside him. He was velvety and fever-hot, rippling around Laurent’s hand. Laurent thought somewhat hysterically of helping horses foal, but that had never been this overwhelming. Damianos grunted and twitched and spurted more come onto the bedspread and onto Erasmus’ hole, squeezing around Laurent’s wrist. He was still thrusting his knot in Laurent’s grip, little needy jerks of his hips, smearing come everywhere. The smell made Laurent’s skin feel too tight for his body, his own hole twitch hungrily and cock throbbing. He was getting wet himself, hated it, couldn’t help it. 

Damianos’ shoulder was pressed against Laurent’s chest, Laurent’s knees straddling one of each of their legs, all three of them tangled together. When Damianos leaned forward to kiss and bite at Erasmus’ neck, Laurent had to lean with him to keep a hand on his knot and hold him back. With both hands occupied, the position forced Laurent to lean against Damianos’ hip for balance, putting pressure on his own cock trapped and aching in his trousers. Come was running over his fingers, down Damianos’ cock, and his other wrist was dripping with Erasmus’ slick. Erasmus’ hole fluttered around his hand as Damianos kissed him. 

Closing a hand around Erasmus’ cock, Damianos started to stroke him. Laurent could feel his bicep moving against his cheek. Erasmus cried out and clenched down almost painfully around Laurent’s hand, cock dribbling a few drops of come as Damianos milked him. With a shudder, Damianos spurted another stream of come all over Erasmus’ belly and small twitching cock. 

Laurent realized that he was panting, mouth open against Damianos’ bare arm, alpha sweat on his lips, filling his nose. He shuddered, fighting the urge to lick his lips, drawing back a little. Erasmus had gone limp beneath them, chest heaving. 

Carefully, Laurent withdrew his hand, wiping it ineffectually on the sheets. Erasmus huffed a satisfied sigh and snuggled down in the pillows, eyes closed. Damianos’ knot was still up, but come was leaking slowly from the tip by now instead of shooting in powerful streams. 

Trembling, Laurent pulled back. His heartbeat was thundering in his own ears, his skin prickling with arousal. He felt damp all over, both hands dripping, his undershirt sweated through beneath his jacket, the tip of his hard dick leaving sticky smears on the front of his trousers, and most of all the shameful, needy slick soaking the fabric between his legs. 

Damianos kissed Erasmus’s shoulder distractedly a couple of times and then lifted his head, a faint frown on his face. Tipping his nose back, he scented the air like a hunting hound. Laurent felt ice grip his belly. “I still smell…” he began, and looked down to check on Erasmus. But Laurent could smell what Damen was smelling. Erasmus’ scent had mellowed and mixed with the traces of alpha on him. It smelled distinctly different now than the fresh slick that was leaking out of Laurent. 

“You’re…” Damianos started, voice hoarse. 

Laurent shuffled back on his knees toward the edge of the bed and then gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stop retreating like a scared animal. He swallowed hard, hating his body for betraying him despite the suppressants. They could stop heats but not natural arousal, and the room stank of sex and alpha pheromones and Damianos was just sitting there on his haunches, brown skin gleaming all over with sweat, dripping cock bobbing between his thick thighs, and Laurent hated him, and hated himself violently as they stared at one another with Erasmus curled sleepy and debauched between them. 

He tried to sneer but it felt brittle on his face. “I’m what?” he hissed in Veretian. “I’m next?” 

Damianos jerked back as if he’d be slapped. “No!” 

Laurent drew in a shuddering breath. “Clean yourself up,” he snapped. “You stink.” He averted his eyes as Damianos rose from the bed, crossing naked to the side table where the pitcher and basin rested. Alphas weren’t supposed to be obedient, but they also weren’t supposed to use their mouths on their omegas, or control their urges when there was a second omega, alone in a room and wet enough to scent. 

Damianos brought the pitcher and clean cloths back without being asked, and knelt on the opposite side of the bed. He tossed one of the cloths to Laurent and began to wipe Eramsus tenderly clean with the other. Once again Laurent was muddled with confusion and frustration. Damianos’ enormous hands were tender. His cock was still mostly hard but he made no move toward Laurent, or to take Erasmus again. 

Erasmus stirred under the damp cloth and curled toward Damianos, tucking his face against Damianos’ bare hip, reaching out blindly with one hand and closing his fingers around Laurent’s wrist with a soft sigh. Damianos threaded his fingers gently through Erasmus’ honey hair. “This can’t go on.” His eyes were earnest. “It’s not just the heats. They’re being mistreated in other ways too. Did you see the burns on his thighs?” Laurent glanced down at the livid red marks on Erasmus’ creamy skin. “He didn’t have those when he left Akielos.” 

“Are you so sure of your own people?” Laurent asked, lip curling.He had wiped his hands as clean as they were going to come without a long soak in the baths, although the musky scents of sex still clung undeniably to his fingers. The rest of his clothes, rumpled and sticky, would have to wait. 

“I am sure that in the palace of Ios slaves are treated with the utmost respect and care. It’s unjust, it’s obscene to use them cruelly when they have no defenses.”

“Don’t you think it is obscene to strip every defense from someone until all they know is submission? No matter how well you think you treat them?” 

Damianos regarded him carefully. His eyes were deep brown, almost black, and darkly-lashed like a mare. “You don’t like submission,” he said. 

Laurent glared back, shoulders tightening. “Imagine that.” 

Huffing out a laugh, Damianos looked back down at Erasmus, still petting him idly. “He’ll be alright for the rest of the night. I think this was the worst of the heat. But the others…” 

“I can get suppressants for them, for now,” Laurent said, looking down at Erasmus’s hand curled around his wrist. Their skin was almost the same color. He found himself saying, “And I might be able to convince Torveld of Patras to take the slaves as a treaty gift.” 

Damianos looked up at him, eyes shining. “You would do that?” 

“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you. And don’t think that we are allies now,” Laurent added sharply, but Damianos was still smiling at him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Follow me on tumblr [@seas-of-ios](https://seas-of-ios.tumblr.com/)


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